


Sweet & Sour

by knavessofhearts



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knavessofhearts/pseuds/knavessofhearts
Summary: HAPPY RSS2016 ANGELQUEEN13!!!!"Life was simple for bakery owner Mr Gold. He could make his bread, not deal with the customers and his bakery was the most popular store on Main Street. He had everything sorted and nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. Then…Belle French opened a café next door."





	1. Colette’s Café Opens…Mr Gold is not impressed

It had been over 18 years since A Game of Thorns had shut down, the florist that lived next door to Mr Gold’s Bakery. Not once had he even thought of why or what had ever happened to its owner, Maurice….Moe….Mr French, Gold had always called him. They were never on a first name basis, despite being next-door businesses for 10 years. He had seen the man in passing, and knew enough of the man he had a wife and daughter. Mr Gold never paid them much attention, only occasionally when Mrs French (Was her name Clarice, Candice?) would come in and buy a bear-claw or danish. She seemed like a kind woman, with very deep brown eyes and a wide smile. He remembered her face, he remembered the day she died and the whole town mourning her loss, he even remembered briefly attending her funeral. Why couldn’t he remember her name?

 

Some days he had recollections of bouquets clogging his doorway, or the scent of roses sneaking into his bakery. But it had been almost two decades since Mr Gold smelt those flowers or even saw a daisy, and hardly ever gave the empty space any thought. It just became an empty space, where nothing ever happened but collecting dust.

 

It was six months ago, that the shutters bordering the windows were torn down. Four months ago the deafening banging and nailing and sawing began that drove Gold insane. Two months ago that the sickening smell of paint wafted into his sanctuary of bread and pastries. And it was a week ago, that Mr Gold noticed the newly hung sign above the doorway to the long-extinct bakery,

 

_ Colette’s Cafe _

 

At least Mr Gold remembered her name now. Then, with a groan, he realised it was a cafe. A cafe. Of all businesses that could have possibly inherited this space after the florist, why did it have to be a cafe?  _ Golden Loaves  _ was almost free of any competition down Main Street, save Granny’s. And though Mr Gold knew he was well disliked around Storybrooke...no one denied he made the highest quality bread in Maine. 

 

Two days before Colette’s Cafe opened for business, Mr Gold was walking past to open his bakery in the wee small hours of a Saturday, and squinted inside at what his competition had for him. A sign above the counter read ‘Delicious, Fresh Pastries everyday’, and Gold felt his blood boil. Who would be so bold and daring as to open a cafe next door to the most feared man in Storybrooke?


	2. Ms French meets Mr Gold…Things Don’t Go Well

It had been over 18 years since A Game of Thorns had shut down, since the last time she had stepped foot inside the store. She hadn’t understood why, back then, she had only been a small child. All she remembered was how happy her father and mother were, and that their home always smelt like fresh flowers. It had always been fond memories of the flower shop when she looked back, spending the weekends at the shop with her father, and seeing the look of surprise on her mother’s face every time he brought her home a bouquets. Even though he did it every weekend, she still beamed with adoration. After she died, Belle never saw a flower in their house again. Father never stepped foot in the florist, or even walked past it down Main Street. It reminded him of her too much, Belle later learned.

She had memories of her mother, and photos upon photos, but she still struggled to remember her. It was almost 18 years ago, but Belle felt she was betraying her by not remembering the way she liked her tea or what she would cook for Belle’s birthday breakfast. For a long time Belle struggled to find a way to hold on to her, to remember her, and honour her. It wasn’t until she strolled past the empty lot with boarded-up windows that the idea struck her. 

It wasn’t going to be another flower shop, it couldn’t, Belle had to find another way to remember her mother. Something that would make her feel safe, warm, like she had made her feel. Six months later, she hung up the sign for Colette’s Cafe above the doorway. It felt right, like her mother was there beside her, that she had always been beside her. Through every moment she wished her mother had been there: high school, graduation, university, restoring the library and travelling the world, it was this moment above all Belle wished her mother could see. Belle had always been searching for something out of life, and she had searched for it in all corners of the world. It wasn’t until she came home, to Storybrooke, after so many years away she found it. It was this cafe, in the old flower shop, her old life and new mixed together, a part of her mother that would be with her always. A place that felt safe. 

Belle flicked the open sign over that Monday morning, and everyone from Granny to Leroy to the Nolan’s came and ate in the new cafe. Through all the crazy fluttering of people in and out of the shop and lunches and coffee’s being ordered, Belle found herself glancing up to the front door every time it opened. She was hoping to see him walk through, just a glimmer of him. A part of her had held onto the open invitation she had given him to stop by on the opening day, even though the chances of him actually showing up here were miniscule. As she turned the open sign back to closed as slowly as possible- her tiny shred of hope finally faded. If he didn’t come today, Belle didn’t have much faith he would ever find his way back to her. 

Belle dragged her feet out to the back office to start the paperwork on her desk, her elation at a successful first day keeping her heart light and head strong, but her heart was weighed down by the disappointment that he hadn’t shown. As soon as she sat down, the bell above the front door jingled and echoed through the store, calling out to Belle. Her heart rose. He came. 

It took all her energy to stop herself from running out to the front of the cafe, to keep herself steady and slow. She turned the corner, full of sudden excitement and couldn’t wait to see him again. Thinking of all the things she had to tell him, catching up on all the years apart.

Mr Gold stood in the middle of her cafe, with a frown creasing his forehead. Belle stopped in her tracks.

“Oh. Mr Gold. You...you weren’t who I was expecting,” Belle faltered, as she tried to hide her growing disappointment again. 

“Miss French, I should have known you were the instigator in all of this,” he insinuated, and began pacing the store. 

He wasn’t an unfamiliar face to Belle. His bakery had been next door for as long as Belle could remember. Belle had a vague recollection of his father owning the store before him, and Mr Gold inheriting it after he died. Golden Loaves was renowned for its quality and delicious sourdough rolls, as well as being renowned for Mr Gold’s sour demeanour. Tonight seemed to be no exemption. 

“I guess we will be neighbours now!” Belle offered in her friendliest tone, and even walked the expanding distance between them and extended her hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever learnt your first name-”

“I do hope you realise Miss French, that you’re new, little cafe is going to be in direct competition with my bakery...a well established and sought after bakery,” Mr Gold pointed out in a toneless brawl. Belle drew back her hand. 

“There’s plenty of Storybrooke to serve for the both of us, Mr Gold,” Belle stated, her mood sinking further and further into the floor. “I don’t intend of backing down.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that…” Mr Gold said sarcastically, and Belle started to feel her blood boil. “You’re father was a great businessman, I’m sure you picked up many useful skills from him.”

“And from my business degree as well,” Belle sneered. Mr Gold ceased his pacing and swung around to wave his hand at Belle like a pantomime. 

“Then you will know, many new businesses burn and crash despite their young owners….gumption,” he declared, and Belle never hated a word much more than ‘gumption’ at this very moment. 

“Unfortunately for you, Mr Gold, I intend to stick around for many years to come,” Belle threatened. Mr Gold smirked at her sass, and she raised her eyebrow. Daring him to keep going. 

“I guess we shall me, Miss French. Good luck,” he ended with as he sauntered through the door and into the night. Belle marched like a stubborn child and ripped the shutter blinds down. Colette’s Cafe was off to a swell start.


	3. Ms French Tries To Avoid Mr Gold…

...Though it was incredibly hard to accomplish, since they worked right next to one another. Ever since their first meeting, a line had been drawn, battle cries had been sung, and it was war. Mr Gold dared come into her cafe and try to psych her out of her new business, that she was just going to fail. Well, she would show him. Her first week was a smashing success, everyone who came in told Belle they would support Colette’s and come in everyday. The town had loved her mother, and she knew what this place meant to a lot of them. Mrs Nolan had been her mother’s best friend, her daughter Emma and Belle had gone to school together. Emma and Belle had never been in the same social circles, but spent more than a few afternoons together when Colette and Mary-Margaret would meet up. Emma and her young son Henry became regulars, ordering hot cocoas and cinnamon buns every morning before Emma walked him to school. Steadily, Belle built a network, and was more than pleased with her accomplishment so far. Yet, in the back of her mind, each day she walked to work Belle couldn’t help but glance inside at Golden Loaves. She didn’t know why she did, anytime she caught a glance of the owner itself Belle scampered like a deer into her cafe. 

It was impossible to avoid the man in a town as small as Storybrooke. He was everywhere! Belle visited the school to drop off an order for Mary-Margaret, and there he was walking past the gates. She went to the pharmacy to buy painkillers, and he was there buying a toothbrush. Belle had a craving for ice-cream at 11:30pm and went to the late-night grocer, and Mr Gold was there buying shampoo. Who buys shampoo at 11:30pm?! 

A month later, Colette’s was still going steadily, and Belle found herself in a comfortable groove of running the cafe. Everything seemed to be going exactly how she envisioned it. Her life at the cafe felt bright and sunny and light, yet when she came back home at night, things felt heavier. 

All the thoughts and pain she would push aside at work would return as soon as she walked into her living room. This was the home she had grown up in, a place once filled with family and happy memories. Now, it was just Belle and the memories. Like the flower shop, Belle’s father hadn’t set foot in here since her mother died. He passed the ownership to Belle and moved to a cabin out in the woods, shut himself off from almost everyone and everything.

Belle had still gotten the occasional postcard on her birthday and Christmas, and once a phone call when Belle told him she was moving back to Storybrooke. She had asked him if things would be different, once she lived closer to him once again. Like a fool, this time she thought he would follow through and show up for her. High school, graduation, university...all those moments she wished her mother had seen, her father had barely been present for. Eventually, he stopped showing up at all. Belle wasn’t angry, she understood why Father was like this. She remembered how happy and loving he had been once, the man that raised her. But, he had never been the same since Mother died. 

The house was exactly as he had left it, with all the photo frames of their happy, little family hanging on the walls. It was sitting there, in the dark surrounding by distant memories, Belle realised that her happiness with the cafe wouldn’t ever be complete until she could share it with her father. A part of her life would always feel open-ended, a story without a happy ending.


	4. Mr Gold Tries to Avoid Ms French…

Despite his best efforts, they just kept running into each other. He supposed it was unavoidable, the two did work right next to one another. But did she have to be everywhere? Main Street, The Docks feeding seagulls as he walked by Thursday morning, even at the damn grocer at 11:30 when he was buying shampoo. Who shops at 11:30pm?! 

Her little cafe had been open almost a month, and already Gold noticed a decrease in his own business. Logic tried to remind him it was barely anything, and it was heading into the quiet period anyway, but his frustration kept telling him it was the damn cafe. He couldn’t help but grimace every time a customer strolled into his bakery carrying a coffee cup emblazoned with that logo. Her business was booming, and he almost felt smited by the damn place. 

The town loved Colette’s Cafe, it was quaint, and homey, exactly what these people ate up. He couldn’t understand it, it was just a new cafe! Storybrooke was a town of tradition and hated change, anything new did not survive. The library barely stayed open a year after it was renovated, and the internet cafe was just a disaster of an idea. Gold had seen many businesses come and go in his time, he was only trying to warn the starry-eyed girl, life wasn’t a fairytale. You never get what you want out of life, and there are certainly no happy endings.

It was three weeks until Christmas, and already he had heard every possible variation of Let it Snow and All I Want For Christmas. It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who was the least bit familiar with Mr Gold, or his non-decorated storefront, that he was not a fan of the holiday season. Colette’s on the other hand, looked like Santa’s Workshop had moved in. One morning, Leroy came in for his usual donut before heading to the mines, and he was greeted by a god, awful smell wafting from his cup.

“What on earth are you drinking Leroy?!” Gold hissed, and Leroy looked as though he had offended his grandmother. 

“It’s a candy-cane coffee, with peppermint!” The short man replied in a jolly tone, and Gold rolled his eyes. Of course it was.

“From next door I assume?” He snarled as he glared through the wall.

“Yeah, and they’re selling like hotcakes! You know, maybe you should try and do something Christmasy too…..like Christmas hotcakes!” 

“Thank you for the suggestion Leroy, have a wonderful day…” he sneered at Leroy, seething with sarcasm that melted Leroy’s joyful attitude in a heartbeat. Once he had scampered off into the street, Gold resumed rolling out his bread dough- and couldn’t help but realise perhaps Leroy- the idiot that he was- was onto something...

Mr Gold had successfully avoided Miss French for over three days, no accidental meetings in groceries or pharmacies, and he was never happier. That was, until, the woman herself barged into his bakery that very next morning.

“Peppermint Pretzels? Are you kidding me?! Peppermint is my thing!” Mr Gold stopped organising his display of freshly made pastries, and turned around to see a defiant Belle French standing in the middle of his bakery with her hands on her hips. Mr Gold acted none the wiser as he continued to clean his hands with a cloth. 

“So you saw my new sign Miss French? Well, I would hardly say you own the monopoly on peppermint on Storybrooke. It’s Christmas time, things tend to get a little more….festive...wouldn’t you say?”

The woman looked like she wanted to throw a peppermint-pretzel at him, very hard, and all Gold did was smile as she turned on her heels and sped out the door. Gold chuckled to himself slightly before returning to work. Things were starting to look a lot like Christmas.


	5. Go To The Mattresses…But Not Literally…

“How does a peppermint-preztel even work? It sounds horrible…” Belle mused as Ruby filled salt

and pepper shakers on the counter and Sneezy the chef (an unfortunate nickname, that in no way

insinuates he sneezes on his food as Leroy clarified) plated up orders, her cafe bustling around her.

Ruby cast a glance at Belle who was staring blindly out the front window. 

 

“They actually taste pretty good,” Leroy chimed in, enjoying a tuna sandwich at a table, and Belle

snapped out of it. 

 

“He’s only doing it to start a war with me, I can tell,” Belle contemplated, and Ruby rolled her eyes. 

 

“What?” 

 

Ruby said nothing, and continued to fill the salt shaker at a snail's pace. 

 

“Maybe you should, you know...Go the mattresses!” Leroy suggested, and Belle’s jaw dropped.

 

“I’m not going to sleep with him Leroy, oh my god!”

 

“No, no, Belle. It’s from the Godfather, it means go to war too. I mean...you could sleep with-”   
  


“I got it Ruby, I got it,” Belle smirked.    
  


Gold was trying to start something, and Belle swore to herself she wouldn’t shie away. She had to

show she wasn’t afraid of the big bad wolf. Her mother had always told her to stand up for what she

loves, and not take things the way they are. If someone was telling Belle she couldn’t be who she

wanted to be, she just had to get creative.

 

Colette’s new special of freshly baked scones & coffee started the next day, that filled the store and

outside with a delicious aroma of baked goods. 

 

It had begun to snow outside, and Belle was leaning against the counter watching it fall. Her mother

had always loved when it started to snow, and in the middle of her reminiscing, Mr Gold walked past

rugged up in a scarf and winter coat. Belle saw him halt in his steps just outside the cafe, look up

slightly and sniff. He turned slowly to glare at Belle, who leaned up and gave him a cheeky wave

through the window. Mr Gold stormed off down the street, and Belle continued to smile. 

 

Two days later, Belle’s small victory came under fire. Leroy was sitting at the end of the counter

chatting to Sneezy as she wiped down the bench. When she saw the coffee Leroy was drinking,

she felt her blood turn to boiling temperature despite the building snow outside. 

 

“Leroy….where did you get that?” 

 

“...He got a brand new machine yesterday! And a great deal on croissant and coffee combos!” He

showed her the cup, and was even emblazoned with a Golden Loaves logo.  _ Oh this was so on…. _

 

“No outsider coffee in here Leroy, chug it or lose it!”

 

“Belle-” Leroy whined. 

 

“Chug it!” Belle pointed at him as she grabbed the orders for the school teachers. 

 

Belle pulled on her coat and beanie as she prepared to brave the chilly weather, and sighed to

herself before turning in the direction she had to go...past the bakery. Belle couldn’t avoid looking

into the store, and seeing Mr Gold’s fancy new coffee machine. Mr Gold was there, standing next to

his pride and glory, and when he saw Belle looking at him, smiled devilishly and gave her a taunting

wave. She shook her head in defiance and kept walking through the falling snow, melting under her

fuming steps. 

 

It was the week before Christmas, and the war on bakery and cafe was still going strong. So strong

in fact, people had begun to take sides. Leroy, unsurprisingly, couldn’t say no to Mr Gold’s fancy

coffee machine and danishes. Belle’s annoyance was only increasing each day, and this game of

cat and mouse was getting old. 

  
  


“This is getting ridiculous…” Belle muttered to herself. 

 

“You can always stop, Belle,” Ruby reminded her. 

 

“And give him the satisfaction?” Belle laughed, “I’d never live it down.” 

 

“What do you have against him anyway? I mean, I know he isn’t the friendliest of residents in

Storybrooke…” Ruby asked. 

 

“He’s a total scoundrel! I don’t know anyone could tolerate him. He is just a completely thoughtless, inconsiderate and spiteful monster of a man!” Belle lamented.

 

The words flew out of Belle’s mouth before she even realised what she was saying, her anger and

frustration speaking for her. At first Belle thought Ruby’s shocked and blanched face was in

response to her outburst, until she realised her gaze was fixed directly over Belle’s shoulder.  _ Oh no. _

 

Belle turned slowly, and grimaced when she saw Mr Gold standing directly behind her. He was

holding a box of donuts, a white flag..or white powdered flag so it were, and she had thrown it back

in his face. Belle could never have imagined the look of anguish and hurt on his face, less so that

she was the one that caused it. He looked down at the box in his hand, hesitating as to whether

throw it at her feet or her face, Belle assumed. After a split second, Mr Gold’s face returned to its

familiar blank expression, and coldly handed her the box.

 

“For our little misunderstanding this week, Miss French...Merry Christmas.” Mr Gold uttered, and left

Before Belle could even begin to form an apology in her mind. Belle laid her head down on the 

counter as Ruby continued cleaning around her. She couldn’t possibly feel any worse of a person 

than she did in this moment. She was never cruel, it just wasn’t who she was. She always saw the 

good in people, and today, she finally saw that Mr Gold was more than just a heartless bastard who 

Made bread. And it was too late.


	6. Belle Is Struck Down by the Flu…Mr Gold takes over the café

Christmas and New Years passed with no excitement, the holiday season hadn’t been much of a  
time for celebration for Mr Gold in many years. It was more a time to simply catch up on some  
reading and drink the fancy scotch. He had tried to not think about what Miss French has said that  
day, but her words had begun haunting him. 

Were they true? Was he really the conniving and heartless man she described? Was that who we   
really wanted to be anymore? For awhile, it had felt good to be hated- a reason to act and feel   
terrible. Now, it just felt like torture. Somehow, seeing himself through her eyes made him realise he  
did not want to be that monster anymore. It wasn’t who he was before it happened, but he had   
grown so accustomed to living with his darkness, he forgot there was still light in the world. 

Once the new year started, Mr Gold made himself a resolution to turn over a new leaf, and stop  
competing with Colette’s Cafe. There was plenty of room in the town for both of them, and as a  
gesture of goodwill, he stopped serving from the fancy coffee machine. He did however, make an  
agreement on the down-low with Leroy to make him a cup every morning. But apart from that, no  
more coffee. 

Not that Gold was expecting this gesture to immediately fix the bad blood between him and Miss  
French, he at least expected some degree of thawing. Yet he hadn’t seen Miss French at all since  
that day, even when he glanced in quickly to the cafe when he walked past every day, the closed  
sign still firmly stuck in its place. It had been almost four days, and still no Belle French. He decided  
this matter needed more immediate action, and asked Leroy for a favour.

He followed the address Leroy gave him and found out Miss French had moved back into the old  
manor her parents had bought many years ago. A charming, large estate, located near the edge of  
town, Mr Gold could see it had only been recently lived in again from years of neglect ageing the   
house. He rang the doorbell twice, and on the third ring, he heard a shuffling on the other side of the   
door. He swung his right arm behind him. 

“Who is it?” A muffled voice spoke through the door.

“It’s uh, It’s Mr Gold, I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Miss French.” 

“Now is not really a good….a good...AAAAACHOOOOOOO” A sneeze reverberated through the  
wall so violently that Mr Gold took a step back, and the door swung open.  
The tiny woman was wrapped up in numerous blankets, and her nose a vibrant shade of crimson  
that would do Rudolph proud.

“Now’s not really a good time, Gold,” she snuffled, and wiped her nose with a tissue. She walked  
back into the house, but left the front door open that Gold took as an indication he could enter,  
closing it behind him. Following her into the living room, she rather so gracefully fell onto the couch  
and disappeared into her blankets. 

“I did want to apologise, for calling you all those horrible things...but Christmas and then New Years, and then this,” Belle indicated to herself as she reached for another tissue. 

 

“Well they...weren’t exactly unfounded comments, either.” Mr Gold extended as an olive branch, and Belle smiled.

 

“I am sorry, about what I said, I know you aren’t a monster,” Belle said, and her eyes finally focused on what Mr Gold held in his right hand. 

“You brought me flowers?” 

“Oh, yes. Leroy mentioned you were sick, I thought you might want these to brighten your day a little.” He handed her the bouquet of yellow daisies, and her smile lit up the room.

“You...got me flowers?” Belle looked up at Mr Gold, and he scratched the back of his neck.

“As an apology too, starting this little feud of ours,” he explained. 

“Well, thank you, Mr Gold,” Belle bowed her head slightly and giggled at the formality, before she  
got up and put the flowers in a vase.

“You want some tea?” Belle called out, and Mr Gold rushed to beat her to the kitchen.

“You’re the one that is sick, Miss French, I shall make the tea,” he offered, Belle nodded and  
returned to the couch. He quickly found all the essentials he needed, and began boiling the kettle, finding two mismatched mugs in a cupboard and placing them on a tray. 

“You know...I can’t believe I have known you for so long, and I have never even heard your first name,” Belle pondered when he returned with the tea and some biscuits.

“Well, that would be because I was never quite fond of my first name, even as a boy. I just simply preferred Mr Gold,” he explained and they sipped their tea in a moment of silence. 

“Alistair,” he finally admitted, and Belle laughed in astonishment.

“Wow, I never would have guessed that!” she exclaimed and exchanged a look of amusement and took a sip of tea in sync.

“Bet you thanked your parents for that during school,” Belle teased, and Gold chuckled.

“Oh, only every single day,” Belle smiled at his joke, and it filled his heart with a warm and comforting feeling. Seeing someone look at him with almost adoration and appreciation, reminded him just how long it had been since he had a friend like that. They drank their tea and ate their biscuits for a while longer, while Gold continued to thaw out the ice between them.

“I had been worried, that the reason Colette’s was closed was because of me,” Gold confessed.

“No, I could barely get out of bed these last few days let alone make it back into Storybrooke. Ruby is visiting her family, and in no universe would I trust Sneezy to open the store,” Belle joked, and Gold laughed slightly.  
“I have to go back tomorrow, I can’t keep it closed for much longer i’ll lose to much money,” Belle realised, and even started to stand up.

“Belle, no! You’re still rather sick, you’ll only make yourself worse if you try and push yourself,” Gold reasoned, and she agreed.

“You’re right, but I have to open! What am I going to do?” 

Mr Gold looked down at the teacup he was twirling in his hands, his finger running over a small chip in the top, before setting it on the coffee table and looking over at Belle.

“I can open for you, I’ll look after the place until you’re back on your feet,” Gold declared, and Belle looked at him in shock.

“You’d...you’d really do that for me?” 

“For a few days of course, it’s no matter,” he reassured her. Belle grabbed his hand and gave it a slight squeeze in gratitude. Before he could even process what had just happened she reached over and handed him the keys with her other hand.

“Thank you so much for this...Alistair. You definitely aren’t who I thought you were….and I’m glad,” Belle said as she let go of his hand, Gold was so flustered for a moment all he could do was look at her with a smile on his face. 

The next day, Mr Gold opened Colette’s. It was simple enough, he had worked in cafe’s before when he was a youth, and it was not much different to his bakery. Once he had Sneezy come in and start making the food, flipped the sign to open, Mr Gold was feeling rather pleased with himself. He even baked some of his signature pastries and breads to sell in the cafe today. 

The first customers of the day, were David and Mary-Margaret Nolan, who upon sitting down and Gold brought out their menus, noticeably jumped in their seats.

“Mr Gold?! What are you doing here?” Mary-Margaret exclaimed. 

“Miss French is down with the flu and I offered to open the place today, take your time to order, dearie,” Mr Gold walked away as the two continued to stare at the back of his head. He wondered if the whole day was going to be like this, and wouldn’t have long to ponder he assumed. Once the Nolans had eaten and left, 95% of Storybrooke was probably in the know. 

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, and Mr Gold even found himself rather enjoying his break from normality. His loaves of bread and pastries actually sold really well in her cafe. Mr Gold left Sneezy in charge to clean up and lock up (which Belle had authorised) and began walking to his car. Mr Gold felt different after today, like part of the dark cloud he had been living under was fading. He hadn’t realise how stuck in a rut he had been until today, until Belle, and couldn’t help but notice how much happier he was feeling. He found himself then stopping by Granny’s to pick up chicken soup for Belle, on his way to giving her back the keys. The new year seemed to hold much more promise for Gold than the years before.


	7. A Business Friendship is Born

There hadn’t been flowers in Belle’s house for 18 years, and then Mr Gold bought her a bouquet of daisies. Belle didn’t want to believe in signs, but as soon as those daisies showed up, everything else seemed so much brighter. She forgot how much a flower could improve a room, or a mood. For her, flowers had always been a happy memory until her mother died, then they became a reminder. Now, flowers had meaning again. They now reminded her of the good and kindness in the world, and the kindness in Mr Gold. 

She brought them into the diner once she was fully recovered, with a new spring in her step. Belle placed them at the edge of the counter with plenty of sunlight, and couldn’t stop herself from humming under her breath as she fixed them up.

“You got an admirer, Belle?” Ruby enquired as she walked in. Belle grinned to herself at the thought of that.

“No, they’re from Alistair...saying sorry for everything that happened last year,” Belle explained, but still couldn’t stop herself from imagining the possibilities. 

“Uh...who?” Ruby questioned, and Belle shook off her fantasies.

“Mr Gold, from next door,” she clarified, and Ruby raised her eyebrow.

“First name basis now, huh?” and Belle gave her a scornful look. Ruby held up her hands playfully and wandered back to the kitchen, muttering something under her breath Belle didn’t quite catch. At that exact moment, Belle looked up out the window and Alistair walked past. He stopped walking, and waved fondly at her through the frosted glass. Belle returned the gesture, and watched him disappear into his store. 

They fell into a new routine. Rather than avoiding one another at all costs, Belle found herself bringing him a coffee every morning when she started her shift. Later in the day, Gold would stop by with some fresh loaves for Belle to use in the cafe. He had created a new dessert recently, a raspberry and lime cheesecake concoction he described as the “the perfect balance of sweet and sour”. It was one of the most delicious things Belle had ever eaten, and not long after Belle always made sure Alistair would deliver it for her to serve every week. 

After a month or so, Belle and Alistair found their paths intersecting more and more frequently. Soon, they found themselves spending time together outside of working at their neighbouring businesses. When Belle was buying toothpaste, and Alistair was buying razors, they would stand and happily chat for ten minutes before parting ways. Once the weather began to thaw, and the sun broke its way through the winter clouds, Belle would take a walk along the docks and bump into him doing the same. They would walk the rest of the way together, talking about how the businesses were doing, their plans for the year, even just gossiping about the status of Emma Nolan and her new boyfriend...the Sheriff of Storybrooke. 

“Graham seems like a good match for her, Emma’s an old friend of mine but she never had much luck finding someone,” Belle informed Alistair, surprisingly well invested in the topic.

“She is a very headstrong woman, and Henry is a smart, young boy,” he remarked. It was strange, Belle almost caught a hint of fondness in his voice, something hidden behind his words. They continued their walk, and Belle shook it off. They were regulars at his bakery too, and who couldn’t be fond of sweet Henry….

“I never asked Emma what happened to Henry’s father, I never knew him. She met him when she was studying in Boston, we weren’t close until she came back with baby Henry. It seemed like something very bad happened in Boston, and it wasn’t my place to know,” Belle pondered, and when Alistair remained silent Belle looked up at him quickly to ascertain why he had suddenly fallen silent. He put up his mask in record time, but not quick enough. Belle saw it, that look he tried to hide from the world. A look of unimaginable pain. 

“Some stories are too painful to speak of,” was all Alistair said. Belle wanted to ask him what was wrong, why Emma and Henry were drawing such a strange and unprecedented reaction from him, but then a voice called out to Belle in front of them.

“Belle?” 

She turned her glance, and stopped in her tracks at who she saw, standing and watching her and Alastair. 

“Father?” 

He looked well, perhaps a bit drawn and gauntly, but still was her father. His eyes flickered to the man standing next to Belle, before he put on his best and friendliest demeanour.

“Did you get my card over Christmas?” Maurice asked, and Belle smiled slightly at his effort. 

“I did, thank you, Father. Did you have a good holiday?” Belle knew well enough not to say Christmas, knowing well by now what conversations and topics would trigger any mention of her mother. It was a fine dance she and her father played. Their interactions so censored they might as well be speaking in code. 

 

“Yes, Thank you. I cleaned out the attic,” Maurice said, and his eyes flickered back to Alistair. 

“Oh, Father, you remember Mr Gold don’t you? He owns the bakery next door to the flow-to my shop?”

“...Yes, I remember,” Maurice said curtly, and shook Alistair’s hand briefly. Belle chanced a glance up to Alistair, who looked as blank and emotionless as her father. 

“You know, Father, we’re selling a new dessert at the cafe an-”

“I have to get going, Belle. I’ll phone you later this week,” Maurice rushed and continued walking along the docks away from Alistair and Belle. They both turned to watch his figure disappear around the corner. 

“He hasn’t been back there since her death, has he?” Alastair surmised, and Belle shook her head sadly. 

“Losing her broke him so badly, it broke us somehow too,” Belle said, and felt Alistair place his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but just him being there was somehow comforting enough.

“Some stories are too painful to speak of,” Belle echoed his words, and he nodded in understanding. They continued their walk, and Belle was secretly glad he kept his arm comfortingly around her.


	8. The Bakery is Closed, Belle becomes worried.

Spring was in full bloom, and Colette’s had a new life blown into it with the uplifting weather. With business going so well, Belle decided to expand and build an outdoor area at the back of the cafe. It overlooked the harbour with a fantastic view, and tripled her business, she even had a pathway that connected the back area to a small parkland. It became Belle’s new spot to sit and think, away from it all. It was almost like a sanctuary, a place that was only hers. It was also a good place to sit and watch Alistair work from the back window of his bakery, but Belle pretended not to hear that when Ruby pointed it out. 

It was a Tuesday morning, almost in time for the mid-breakfast rush, when Belle realised that Golden Loaves was closed. She had brought over Alistair’s coffee, and was stopped in her tracks when she saw the sign on the front door: ‘closed until further notice’. Belle tried her best not to worry, but something seemed off when she read that. Alistair was not one to just close his doors at the spur of the moment. She thought she knew him that well. Once back in the cafe, she dialled his phone number and it went straight to his voicemail. Belle even asked Leroy if he knew why the bakery was closed, and he only shrugged and asked for more coffee. 

Two days later, the bakery was still closed. Belle couldn’t do anything but worry at this point that something had happened to Alistair, and found herself completely distracted at work as the days rolled by. 

“What if something has happened to him? Should I call Dr Whale?” Belle wondered out loud as Ruby made coffee’s.

“If Whale knew what was wrong with him, the whole town would know within the hour, Belle,” Ruby tried to reassure Belle, but it did nothing to abide her concerns. 

“Why are you so worried about him anyway?” Ruby inquired, and Belle definitely did not miss her tone in her voice.

“Because he is my friend, Ruby, and it’s so unlike him to just up and leave with no warning. No note. No call,” Belle couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he hadn’t even bothered to tell her, she thought they were closer than that. 

“He does this every year, Belle. You just never noticed,” Ruby said, and Belle sprung around.

“What? What do you mean he does it every year?”

“He disappears for like a week, always this time of year, and no one knows where he goes or what he does. He just vanishes,” Ruby explained as she handed Leroy and Doc their coffee’s.

“Then he just turns up and everything is back to normal,” Leroy added. 

Belle began searching her memory, if she had ever noticed Mr Gold take this leave of absence before, and felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t. He had never been someone she kept tabs on, he hadn’t really been a part of her life until last year. Now, she was struggling to think of how she would have gone about without his friendship. They had such a great balance of qualities and interests, and could easily get lost talking to each other for hours. Belle didn’t realise how much she had grown to care for him until he had vanished, perhaps that was a sign of something else brewing inside Belle. 

It was Friday night, and Belle locked up after a later shift than she expected. It was already dark and she regretted not having driven to work that day. She had started walking in the direction of her house, and was about to cross the road when she saw a Cadillac pull up outside Grannys. She immediately recognised the car even though he barely drove it. Who else in town but Alistair Gold would drive a Cadillac? 

He got out of the driver’s seat, and Belle was more than surprised when the back door and passenger side also opened. Even from a distance, and in the dark, Belle could see it was...Emma, and Henry? Belle couldn’t mask her surprise when they all stood by the car and chatted for a moment, this was not who Belle expected Alistair to have returned from his mystery trip with! She didn’t even know that the three of them even knew each other outside of Gold feeding their bearclaw addictions. Their interaction got even stranger, when Alistair hugged Henry, and shook Emma’s hand, before getting back in his car and driving off. Belle didn’t emerge from her shadow until Emma and Henry had disappeared into the diner, unsure of what to make of what she had just witnessed.

All along her walk home, Belle tried to think of any reason or explanation to why the three of them had disappeared for a week. Alistair and Emma had no common ties at all, barely even acknowledging one another in town. When Belle had finally made it to the end of her street, she was met with another surprise. The Cadillac was parked outside her house. 

She found him sitting on her front steps, under the porch light. He looked tired, and worn out, like a week away had aged him a whole year. He look up when he heard her steps approaching.

“Belle…” he breathed, and suddenly the stress and pain in his face faded away, he looked happy to see her. Belle didn’t know what to say, immediately her mind pushed her to ask him about what she had just seen, what his connection to Emma and Henry were….but she stopped herself. She wasn’t supposed to know that, all she was supposed to know was that Alastair was sitting on her porch. Waiting for her. 

“What are you doing here?” Was her best starting line, and he began to fiddle with his hands.

“I wanted to apologise, I know I should have told you I was going away for awhile,” he said. Belle took a step towards him.  
“It’s fine, you don’t owe me an explanation,” Belle reassured him.

“But I do, Belle. It’s just that...I can’t….” he struggled to find the words, and the pain started sinking back into his eyes. Belle took the last few steps and sat down on the steps beside him.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” she whispered, their shoulders grazing and their noses inches apart.

“I want to tell you, to let you in... but there is so much you don’t know, and I was afraid once you knew it all, all you would see is darkness. All I’ve known since you was darkness, and I didn’t want to drag you down into it as well,” he said, his voice breaking with heaviness.  
Belle placed her hand at the back of his neck, and pulled his head forward so their foreheads would touch. She listened to his unsteady breaths and tried to give him some of her strength. 

“I don’t see darkness, Alistair. All I see is you,” she told him, and with their eyes closed, she found her lips searching for his. Under the porch light, in a quiet spot amongst the darkness, they kissed through tears, and pulled each other closer.


	9. Flowers Return to Colette’s, And So Does a Familiar Face

Belle was surprised how normal it felt, to wake up next to him, to see him make coffee in their kitchen, to brush the strands of hair away from his face. It was like he was always supposed to be there, and things had finally fallen into place. Belle was so happy, she almost had pushed Alistair’s disappearance out of her mind, lost in his kisses and grand gestures. Their few moments outside of working hours became continuous, their walks along the docks now with holding hands and kisses on cheeks. Even Ruby had warmed up to Gold, no longer saying his name with a tone of unappreciation. 

Soon enough, Belle started buying flowers again. Colette’s once again was filled with the comforting scent of flowers. Even Golden Loaves got the pianie-treatment, after some discussion and bargaining with Alistair. Her mother was everywhere again, no longer shut at the back of her mind like a painful story that couldn’t be told, but alive again. 

One afternoon, on a beautiful sunny day, Belle found herself floating around the cafe like she was on wheels, filling up everyone’s coffee and giving them extra biscuits. It was another perfect day, and Alistair had brought over her favourite cheesecake again. Belle heard the bell above the door ring announcing new patrons, Belle spun around with a smile on her face, only for it to falter slightly when she saw Emma and Henry enter the store.

“Wow, any second now you’re going to turn into a Disney Princess!” Emma remarked, and Henry laughed along. 

“Oh, c’mon! Not with this hair,” Belle joked as she guided them a seated booth.

“You seem happy, Belle. New guy in the picture?” Emma raised an eyebrow playfully as she handed them menus.

“Yeah, actually...Alistair,” Belle tested the waters, and saw a look in Emma’s eyes. 

“Gold?! Really? That’s great, Belle! I’m happy for you,” Emma said in all genuine praise, and Henry beamed along with her before asking if they had any cheesecake leftover. Belle jotted down her order and walked back to the counter, feeling her feet touch the floor once again and her happiness subside. The dark cloud of that week came back over Belle as she watched Emma and Henry try to balance spoons on their noses. No one in town knew Mr Gold’s first name, but Emma did. 

She handed their order to Ruby, and slouched on the counter as she pulled petals off a daisy beside her and letting them fall onto the counter. There was a rapping on the glass window, and Belle looked up to see Alistair smiling at her, and holding a picnic basket. Now it was Belle’s turn to put up a mask. 

 

Any other day, Belle would have been elated at a picnic in her little sanctuary with Alistair, but today she desperately tried hard to forget what was nagging her. She wasn’t winning. Belle couldn’t keep things inside her like Alistair did, they ate at her insides and fought to be free.

Alistair handed Belle her sandwich, and poured iced teas out of a canister, and Belle found herself unable to keep the topic inside any longer.

“Emma and Henry were in the cafe, did you see?”

“No, can’t say I noticed,” Alistair said with a mouthful of sandwich. Belle looked down at the sandwich in her hand, fiddling with a piece of lettuce. 

“Alistair...how do you know Emma?” Belle kept looking down, but heard him pause for a second. 

“She lives in Storybrooke, and her son is the sole reason I run out of bear claws before 12pm,” he said, and took a swig of iced tea. Belle looked up.

“How do you really know her, Gold?” 

“I’ve told you, Belle. I don’t understand what you are asking of me…”

“I’m asking why you went away with Emma and Henry the other week, and why you won’t tell me.” 

He stopped, as he saw the look in her eyes. She couldn’t keep pretending, she had to know. Belle saw him sit up slightly, and his eyes close for a second. He took her hand, and Belle hoped he would explain this secret hanging between them. 

“Belle…” 

“BELLE!” 

Belle looked up to the back deck of the cafe, and saw Ruby waving at her from the distance across the park. Ruby continued to wave and Belle knew she had to go back inside. Belle left Alistair to pack up their half-eaten picnic, disappointment weighing heavily on her as she walked back into the cafe. She found Ruby in the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” she asked Ruby, who seemed hesitant to tell her.

“Your….dad is here,” Ruby told her, and Belle felt her eyebrow sky rocket.

“Here? In the cafe?” 

Ruby nodded, and Belle marched into the cafe. Sure enough, there he was. 18 years since the last time he walked through that door. Standing with his hands wringing his jacket, looking around for Belle.

“Father,” Belle walked up to him, “...Uh, Hi!” 

“Hi, Belle,” he smiled once he saw her, and Belle felt herself sigh in relief. He finally showed up. For so long Belle had held out her hand to him, to pull him from the depths and rebuild their broken relationship. She had all but given up, yet here he finally was. Belle could see it was hard for him, but finally cards and phone calls had been exhausted. 

“You want some coffee?”


	10. The Most Painful Story That Finally is Told

Gold hadn’t seen Belle since that afternoon she confronted him about Emma and Henry. He hadn’t expected it, but there was no denying it once he saw her eyes. She knew, that they had been together that week. That whatever the secret was, involved them as well. He imagined how betrayed she must had felt, knowing that he was keeping it from her. He didn’t know what to say, he had kept that part of himself shut off for so long, he was so used to having walls inside them. Now, there was someone there to tear them down, and that frightened him. He wanted her, he was falling in love with Belle, but he didn’t know how to love her as the man he was now. A man riddled with pain and with secrets. 

He finally took the chance, at closing time when he knew Belle would be alone in the cafe. She was standing behind the counter counting cash, and looked up when the doorbell rang out and broke the silence between them.

“Hey,” Gold tried.

“Hey,” Belle repeated back, and he ventured forward towards her. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” Belle started, “My Father wants to spend time with me here again, he’s finally getting better and…”

“I understand, Belle, it’s alright,” he sighed, knowing that wasn’t really the reason he hadn’t seen her, and she knew it too. 

“I didn’t know what to say to you...after how we left things,” Belle confessed, and Gold began fiddling with his hands.

“Belle, before we….before I told you that there were things you did not know about me, and that you wouldn’t want to know,” he said, and Belle bit her lip. 

“Alistair….how can we be together if we’re like this? How are we supposed to become anything if we keep walls between us?” 

He had nothing, he couldn’t let it go...not yet. And he knew his hesitation would translate to Belle has something else, but he was afraid. 

“I can’t do this anymore, if you can’t let me in. I really like you, Alistair, I might even lo….I won’t give up on us, but when you told me there were things i didn’t know about you, I told you that I didn’t care about your darkness. I can help you through it if you just let me,” Belle pleaded. 

They both stood there after Belle’s speech, the distance between them growing and growing with every silent second. He felt himself reaching out to her, trying, desperately reaching for her light. But the darkness just kept pulling him back, reminding him that he didn’t deserve her, that he couldn’t have her and never could. The darkness made his feet shuffle, and walk out the door. Belle called out to him, and he wanted nothing more than to run back to her, but the distance just kept growing. 

His feet kept him going, when all he wanted to do was break down under the weight of all his pain. He felt like every painful memory was on repeat, spiralling through every moment and feeling. Finally, he was at the docks at couldn’t walk any further. He pulled out his cellphone and dialled. 

Ten minutes later, the yellow bug pulled up and Emma walked to stand beside him. They both stared out at the dark curtain of the ocean, listening to the sounds of the dock and birds, before he finally said it.

“Belle knows. She knows i’m not telling her the truth, and don’t know how to tell her...I haven’t said those words out loud since...since it happened,” Gold told her. Emma was the only one he could talk to about this, she was only one else who knew him. 

“Sometimes, when I look at Henry, when he grins or says a word a certain way….I feel like someone is crushing my heart because he is so like him. And when Henry sees me react that way, and asks what’s wrong, I don’t know how to tell him...I think he knows now though. Henry’s a smart kid.”

“Smarter than the both of us,” Gold joked, and Emma laughed. It was a strange, almost friendship they had, bound together by the strangest of circumstances, and he was secretly thankful for it. 

“You love her, don’t you?” 

“...Yes, I love her,” Gold realised. He loved her. She was the one who brought him out of his slumber, that he hadn’t known he was in. He reminded her there was life after tragedy, and that he could be a better man.

“That’s how you tell her, how you break down those walls. Remember you love her, and she loves you….and that Neal loved you too,” Emma whispered, and Gold felt his eyes burn. 

“It took me a long time to love again, to let someone into my heart other than Henry, but it didn’t make me weaker, it made me stronger. Graham helps me carry the pain, and Belle will help you as well.” 

Finally, Gold’s feet led him to Belle’s door. Once he stepped into her porch light, he was sure. He’d lived in the shadows long enough. He knocked softly on her door, and took a few steady breaths before Belle opened the door, wide awake. She crossed her arms, leaned against the doorframe, and he left his mask fall down. He took a deep breath, and told her. 

“We hadn’t spoken in...over ten years. When he was a teenager when we had a falling out, and I never managed to fully repair it. He moved to Boston, gone in the middle of the night. I accepted that we was gone, I was alone and that i’d never see him again.

 

Then I got a phone call from him, and it was the first time he called me Papa again. He told me he’d met a girl, that they’d fallen in love and she was having a baby. He told me that as he was becoming a father, he’d realised that we had to mend our relationship. We almost got the chance to be a family, we were almost happy again. He was in a car accident, the day before I was to fly out and meet his new family. He was in the hospital, we thought he was going to be okay, and then in a second everything changed...He told me to look after Emma and their baby, to watch over them….he never even got to meet his son. I brought Emma back to Storybrooke, provided for her and for Henry when he was born. Every year we would go back to Boston so Henry….so Henry could see his father.” 

He felt Belle’s hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears and pulling his eyes up to meet hers, just as swollen with tears as his.

“It wasn’t your fault, Alistair...none of it was,” she wrapped her arms around him, and he felt the weight lift off him just every so slightly as they embraced. Emma was right, love meant carrying each other’s heartache.


	11. Gold and Belle Find a New Rhythm…

It was intensely fascinating to watch Alistair work, and Belle found herself losing hours because of it. The way he worked was captivating, like an artist painting a masterpiece with meticulous and methodical attention. Belle would sit on the counter and watch him knead the bread, completely lost in his bakery world as he focused on making each loaf perfect. Belle found herself spending every moment she could spare to work with him, learning new recipes and techniques, and that kneading bread and watching Alistair’s surprising muscles was extremely arousing. 

Months wore on, and it felt like they had been together for years. Each step felt right, natural and exciting. Belle couldn’t think of a time she had felt like this before, except when her mother was alive. The house she had grown up in started to feel like home again. Only now, the scent of danishes and fresh bread filled the house rather than freesias. Alistair had basically been sleeping there every night of the week before Belle ceremoniously tied a key around his coffee with a red bow one day. 

“I have to go, Belle,” he murmured against her lips, but Belle chose to ignore him and continued kissing him with vigour. They were laying on her bed, the morning light pouring in and baking them in its warmth. The weather had begun to turn, and the leaves browning, but there were still a few summer days left to be squeezed out, and Belle intended on enjoying them.

“I really do have to go,” he tried again, and Belle rolled on top of him to trap him amongst the sheets. He pushed her hair away from her face, his hand running along her cheek lovingly before he pulled them together, and rolled them over on the bed so he was on top.

“You have to go to work too, sweetheart,” Alistair reminded her, kissing her neck briefly, before their quick pecks turned into a deep embrace and laid side by side. 

“I don’t think I have ever been happier than right here in this moment,” Belle whispered, and playfully ran her finger along his arm. Alistair mimicked and fiddled with a curl at the end of Belle’s hair. 

“I wish we could just stay right here, and forget everything else…” she added, before he smiled in reply and kissed her once more. 

“As do I, but alas...Leroy will need his morning coffee or there will be hell to pay,” he joked, and Belle erupted in giggles. 

She was still laughing, like a lovestruck teenager when she entered the diner and shrugged off her jacket. It was a Tuesday, most of the weekend tourists’ headed home the previous day, so she expected a quiet day to follow. She cleaned up one of the tables by the window, and happened to notice brochures left there by the tourists she had spoke to yesterday. An elderly couple on their 50th anniversary trip. They asked for Belle’s help in deciding where to go next, and she eagerly told them why not go to all the places they want to go to? Belle found herself considering her own advice when she picked up the brochures and flicked through them. She could so clearly imagine her and Alastair exploring South America together, or riding through the streets of Rome on a vespa. she could just as easily see them as the elderly couple planning their 50th anniversary. The smile on her face, and the happiness in her heart was all the proof she needed to know how much she loved him. 

“Planning a trip, are we?”

Belle turned in the direction of the voice, to see a strange man in a suit standing in the doorway, briefcase in hand. He looked oddly familiar, but Belle failed to draw a name. He wore a slightly menacing expression, like a man used to forcing others to do his will. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Actually...I am here to help you, Miss French,” he spoke as though he intended kindness, but only came out even more menacing than his expression. Belle had a bad feeling about this.

“My name is Albert Spencer, and I have grand plans for this block on Main Street as a development opportunity,” he said, and Belle saw Ruby and Sneezy stop in their tracks and intently listen on. Belle crossed her arms and tried her best to make herself seem taller. 

“What kind of development opportunity?” Belle snarled back, and Mr Spencer’s eyebrow raised slightly. 

“Apartments, serviced apartments. A prime location on Main Street that would fetch a darling price, with a gym and other facilities inside, and be a source of great prosperity-”

“-to you?” Ruby interjected.

“-to all of Storybrooke,” he said through gritted teeth and eyed Ruby out of the corner of his eye, before composing himself once more.

“There would even be a restaurant, that will be in need of a manager and...waitstaff,” he snickered, and Belle saw Ruby wring a cloth in her hands. 

“And what exactly would happen to the businesses already here? My cafe?!” 

“You will be well compensated of course, Miss French, for any inconveniences incurred.”

“Inconveniences?! You’re trying to shut down my cafe! A cafe I worked hard at creating and getting off the ground! You can’t just come in here with your money and tear it all down!” Belle screamed in disbelief.

“Oh, but I can, Miss French. I already own 70% of the properties in this town, and all but two business on this street. Once I have them all, I can do what I want with them. And I always...get what I want,” he leaned over Belle, and made her feel like a scolded child, before he sauntered off through the door and down the street. Belle marched out after him, ready to fire off any insults that came to mind. Mr Spencer was already sliding into his Mercedes and driving off down the street when Belle saw Alistair come out of the bakery.

“Belle? What’s wrong?”

“Can you believe that man?!” Belle screamed and pointed in the direction the devil of a man had rode off into. 

“Who?”

“Albert Spencer! He wants to tear down Main street and put up an apartment building!” Belle lamented, and Alistair nodded in understanding.

“I’ve heard of him, most people don’t look too kindly to him, more of a shark than a man. People feared me, but they loathe him,” he observed, and Belle came crashing into his arms.

“What are we going to do? I can’t lose the cafe, not after everything i’ve done to build it. And the building...It would be like losing my mother all over again,” Belle bawled into Alistair’s shoulder. He ran his hand through her hair, trying his best to comfort her without words. After a while, he pulled her away from his shoulder so she could look up at him.

“I promise you, Belle,” he professed, “I won’t let him take your cafe, never.”

Belle cracked a smile, nodded in understanding and jumped on the balls of her feet to reach his lips. He held her up and kissed her deeply, only pulling a part to whisper the words he had been dying to say for what felt like forever.

“If I quit now, he wins,” Belle said to him, and he gripped her tighter.

“I love you, and I won’t stop fighting for you,” he said, and Belle rested her forehead against his.

“I love you, too.”


	12. Gold is Given a Terrible Choice, That Will Change Everything

Mr Spencer had a monopoly of influence over the powers-that-be in Storybrooke. The pockets ran deep in this town, and tradition and old loyalties even deeper. Gold wasn’t even sure what power this man exactly had, but his money and demeanour were enough to make people do what he wanted. It was true, people did fear Gold because of his attitude and general intolerance for stupidity, but generally his loner-tendencies had translated to dislike. He might not have been liked, but he was not hated. Spencer was a man to hate. Perhaps, like Gold, he had once been a kind man that tragedy, or some kind of circumstance, had turned him dark. Gold didn’t think so, some men, were just sharks. 

Once Albert Spencer declared war, there was nothing left to do but lay down your arms. Gold had already seen countless businesses, homeowners, citizens and all concede to him, but Spencer had always enough common sense to leave Gold alone. He was not on the same level of darkness as Spencer, but they were close. Gold had been one tragedy away from becoming a man like Spencer too, but his son’s dying request to be a grandfather and friend to his family was enough to maintain his humanity. And for Belle, to be the man she deserved. They were his reasons to stay good, and now, to fight. No one else had stood up to the man, but perhaps it was time to take back the town, or at least the corner of Main Street.

Belle had been working herself to near exhaustion everyday fighting against Spencer, but he was a force to be reckoned with. It was late one evening, that Gold came back to Belle’s and found her asleep on her dining table. He gently roused her to semi-consciousness, enough to make it up the stairs and into bed. He tucked her in, with a quick peck on the cheek before he made his way back out of the room.

“Alistair?” Belle grumbled, he turned and walked back to the bed, sitting beside her and taking her hand.

“What if he wins?” her eyes were still closed, but her forehead was creased in worry. He softly kissed her hand still wrapped up in his. 

“He won’t, my darling, he won’t. This fight can wait one more night, you need sleep,” he whispered, and gently dropped her hand. He waited until he was sure Belle had fallen back to sleep and walked back out of the room to the spare room. It was a habit they had started a few months back on the nights he stayed over, and when he had to wake up early for the bakery. Rather than disturb Belle, he let her sleep until a more reasonable hour while he went about his business. 

It was a little before 6am that he turned on the lights in the bakery, and started to turn on the oven and machinery, that he turned around saw him standing by the door. 

“What on earth are you doing here, Mr Spencer?” he fumed, and Spencer seemed to enjoy his annoyance.

“I have a proposition for you, Gold,” Spencer announced, and Gold frowned deeper.

“That couldn’t wait until sunrise?” 

“I wanted to make sure you were alone, and you are the only person in Storybrooke who is awake at this hour, aside from me of course,” Spencer drawled, and Gold began to grow angry.

“What exactly are you proposing and be quick about it, Spencer,” Gold hissed through his teeth. 

“This bakery has been here before even I was born. It has been in your family for generations, your legacy…”

“Yes, I don’t need reminding, thank-you,” Gold retorted.

“I have a way for you to save your business, your bakery,” he said, and Gold tilted his head up ever so slightly.

“I will agree to let your bakery remain here, on the corner of Main Street, and my development will surround it. Your legacy will be intact and uninterfered with. Doesn’t that sound nice, Mr Gold?”

“And what price am I supposed to pay for this...generosity?” he snarled, and Mr Spencer pretended to ponder this question for a moment.

“Oh….nothing at all. To ensure your safety, I will need to do nothing as I take away Belle French’s. You can save yourself, Mr Gold, but you can’t save her.”

“You honestly expect me to agree to that?! To let you destroy her life’s work while I sit here in comfort and safety?”

“I don’t need your agreement...do you honestly seeing this ending any other way? Why do you think you have lasted this long here to begin with? Not because people respect or fear you...it is because you are a coward. A coward too afraid to be free from his own destiny, to choose security over uncertainty. Love over money and power. I don’t need to make this deal with you...you’ve already made it, Gold. You will lose her, like you lost everyone else…”

Gold felt like the ground from beneath him had ripped away, and stumbled back against the wall as Spencer’s words ran through him like a sword. He could feel his breathing increasing, and his chest tight with pain. Spencer smiled, knowing his work was done and sauntered off through the door. Was he right? Was he a coward? Gold couldn’t let Belle’s dream die, but suddenly Gold was helpless and hopeless, the same broken man who could not see a light at the end of the tunnel he had been when his son died. He lost his son, his family, his home. He couldn’t lose Belle too. 

Gold never opened the bakery that day, instead he grabbed his keys and ran. He didn’t know where he had to go, but he knew he had to leave Storybrooke and fast. He was on the road and speeding past the town sign in minutes. It was still morning, when he crossed into Boston. 

There was only one person who could console Gold, to confide in and find his footing again. He waited in his car, staring out into the field as he gained his courage to walk across it and find him. Gold opened the door, and walked across the hill to where his son rested. 

“When you were a boy, not long after Milah was gone...you ran away in the supermarket. I couldn’t find you...and for the briefest moment, fear took hold of me and I thought, ‘What if I never see you again?’, before I found you at the front of the store. You were the last person in the world who loved me, and without you...even in that tiniest of moments, I felt adrift. Like I had no strings tying me to this world..” he paused, as he laid a hand on the marble stone, the rose from their last visit still adorning it.

“I have felt like that ever since you died...until Belle. She brought something back into my life, that I didn’t know that i needed until I had it. I can’t lose that...just like she can’t lose her cafe. The cafe is her last connection to her mother, like the bakery is my connection to you. The days and hours we spent there...I can’t lose both of you. It would be too much.” 

He stood there for what felt like hours, hoping for his choice to be made clearer. He felt like a terrible person, even considering the proposition Spencer had forced him into. Choosing one over the other, it was an impossible call that no one could make. Either possible route he took, Gold would lose something, or someone. That was what scared him the most, and made him feel helpless. 

Suddenly, he heard Belle’s words echo in his head, bringing him back to his feet...If I quit now, they win.

He was back in Storybrooke by sunset, and headed straight to the cafe. He knew what he had to do, once he realised that he could not quit because he was scared. He had to fight, like he had promised. One moment of weakness to realise what was really important, what was the right thing to do to honour his son, and fight for Belle. 

He pulled up outside the cafe, that should have been bustling with customers as it usually was this time, only to see it empty and desolate. He walked inside, and suddenly his courage and determination was wavering. Belle walked in from out the back, with an expression on her face Gold never thought he would see. The mask he had worn for so many years. Defeat, and betrayal.   
“Belle…” he tried to start, but she shook her head.

“Don’t Alistair...He won, Spencer won. It’s over….” her voice was so resigned, so tired. He felt his lip quiver, knowing his hesitation today had caused all this to happen. 

“Belle, I didn’t-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Gold,” she interrupted, and Gold tried to step forward to her, reaching out, but she only stepped further away. “Spencer told me everything. That you sold me out to save yourself…” 

Her words were seething with anger, and each word she threw at him felt like knives. He wanted to explain everything. That he hadn’t betrayed her, he would never. This was all a misunderstanding. It wasn’t too late to fix things….

“Just...leave me alone, please,” Belle said and walked back through the doorway without another glance, leaving Gold alone in the dark.

Colette’s Cafe shut down two weeks later.


	13. It’s Christmas Again…And There is Mistletoe

Spencer’s apartments were completed a week before Christmas, and Belle could barely stand to walk down Main Street anymore. Looking at the place where her cafe had once stood, where the flower shop she so cherished had lied, was gone. 

Two months ago, everything had been so different, Belle had everything and her life felt on track. Now, she felt like she was drifting. The cafe had even everything, and to see it being taken away like it was nothing crushed her. It crushed her even more that she had blamed Alistair. It had been 8 weeks since she saw him, not even in Granny’s or at the grocery store...Belle even wondered if he was in town. She had been angry, shocked, heartbroken, and believed Spencer when he told her that Alastair had betrayed her, but once Belle saw Golden Loaves teared down along with Colette’s, Belle learnt her terrible mistake. She had pushed him away, probably broken his heart too, and now it was too late. Belle had tried to fix her mistake, called him and called him hoping he would pick up, but he never did. 

Ruby got a job waitressing at Granny’s, and asked Belle almost everyday when she was going to start up another Colette’s. But truthfully, Belle couldn’t find it in her to try again. So many times she had been pushed down and failed that now it seemed ridiculous to even try. Mary-Margaret Nolan suggested maybe Belle travel, and get some perspective, and she remembered the brochures she had scrolled through in Colette’s. Maybe she should get out of town for awhile...clear her head and get back on her feet. Belle borrowed her father’s car, packed a weekend bag, and drove. With no destination in mind, Belle just followed the road and let her mind go blank. She had been driving all day, when a memory formed in her head, of her and her mother in Central Park, playing in the snow. Belle found herself standing in this spot by that afternoon, hoping for some kind of connection to her. It was a winter wonderland, everything covered in heavy layers of snow, a sight that normally gave Belle joy. Belle so desperately wanted her advice and guidance, what she should do next. But Belle couldn’t find her mother in Central Park, she wasn’t here anymore. The only place Belle had felt connected to her was torn down and crushed under condo apartments. 

Belle wandered the streets until she found a corner cafe, and in desperate need of a coffee she wandered in. it wasn’t until she had ordered, shrugged off her coat, beanie and scarf and settled in to read a book, she felt eyes staring intently at her from across the room. Standing in line to order, looking like he’d seen a ghost, was Alastair. Before Belle could even think against it, she stood up and walked over to him, he mirrored her moves and the two met in the middle of the cafe, standing next to a window overlooking Central Park. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, out of breath, and Belle laughed slightly, the same question burning on her tongue. What were the odds?

“Looking for answers,” she replied honestly with a small shrug. She pleaded with her eyes, trying to say everything she had been dying to tell him. That she was sorry, she didn’t know, she regretted what she said, she was sorry. Too many apologies and words that would take too long to say, and she needed him to know right now. Alastair smiled, and reached out and cupped her face in his gloved hand, and Belle felt a grin erupt from her face, and wrapped her hand around his. They kept their eyes locked on each other, and their hands entwined until Alastair looked up and laughed. Belle followed his eyes and sure enough, they stood directly under the mistletoe. Belle launched herself into his arms, and kissed him so passionately she didn’t even care they were in a crowded and bustling cafe. Everything was falling back into place, and Belle felt a piece of her glue back together, and gave her hope that everything else would work out.


	14. Epilogue: Just The Way It Was Supposed To Be

No word other than fate fitted so perfectly than when Belle French walked into that cafe in New York. Gold felt as though the last two months of loneliness and pain were just a dream the second she smiled at him, and he knew that she still loved him. Without her, everything else just didn’t make sense. He had come to New York hoping to find direction again, and came crashing into Belle. He wasn’t much of a believer in higher powers, but somehow he knew everything that had happened, happened for a reason. Every moment of anguish, sorrow, joy and happiness was supposed to happen, so that he and Belle would be standing from across one another in this very moment. Just meant to be. 

They walked through Central Park, never letting go of one another as they swapped apologies, stories, explanations and any other train of thought that rain through their heads. It had felt like hours, and the sun was beginning to set, and Gold realised now was the perfect time to ask Belle. A question that had been sitting in how mind since the day he realised he loved her. 

It felt like it had been there in his mind forever. Something that felt so right, so natural, he had to ask her. He pulled her hand and they stopped walking, and Belle looked up at him with loving eyes, and he knew what her answer would be already. 

 

“Belle, will you...start a business with me?”

 

Sweet & Sour opened 5 months later.


End file.
